


Occupational Hazard

by sarahyyy



Category: Inception
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-13
Updated: 2012-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-31 02:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eames writes (sometimes horrible) horoscopes to woo Arthur, much to the chagrin of everyone (read: Dom), and manages to even mess that up. Go figure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Occupational Hazard

**Author's Note:**

> It feels like I've been writing this Horoscope AU for years now, but hey, I finished it before Valentine's Day, so that's got to count for something, right? =D

Dom stares at Eames. “Today’s column, explain,” he says slowly. 

Eames gives Dom his best innocent look. “What’s wrong with today’s column?”

“The Arthurius,” Dom says pointedly, trying very hard to be patient, “is not a real horoscope.”

“It’s something new,” Eames says simply. “Writing the horoscope column is dreadfully boring. Ariadne gets to watch movies at the paper’s expense; Mal gets to ask people to go screw themselves in creatively subtle ways; Yusuf stuffs himself with the delicacies of the world, comments that they are horrible and gets a second serving. I need to spice up my work a bit or I’d die of boredom, Cobb, you have to understand that.”

Dom squints. “I’m not letting you invent a new horoscope intended for a very specific person.” 

“Specific?” Eames asks with a snort. “How is it specific? Pssh, it’s not specific.”

“ _’Love is in the air. Gel your hair, wear a suit, stop by your usual coffee place, grab a cuppa and accept a date from the guy who has been badgering you for forever now’_ ,” Dom reads out from the papers. “I don’t know much, but it’s pretty specific. I’m also pretty sure I did not approve of this.”

“Improvisation,” Eames says with a shrug. “Also, the stars guide my readings. You cannot blame me for writing what I write.”

Dom rolls his eyes. “We got a complaint early this morning.”

Eames’ eyes light up. “From Arthur?”

Dom sighs resignedly. “From someone named Arthur, yes.”

“ _Fantastic_ ,” Eames purrs. “Can I keep the Arthurius, then?”

Dom stares at Eames and wonders what he has done to deserve this. “ _No_.”

“You are no fun at all,” Eames sniffs. “I’ll ask Mal instead.”

\--

“Mal, sweetheart, light of my life,” Eames calls dramatically as he steps into Mal’s cubicle. “How are you today?”

Mal raises an eyebrow but grins at Eames. “Pleasant,” she replies. 

“I read your column,” Eames tells her, “ _’Twice I’ve walked into my husband masturbating in the bedroom to gay porn. What should I do?_ Join him or learn how to knock.’ Really, Mal? You are one in a million.”

Mal laughs. “Thank you, Eames,” she manages to say before a knowing look enters her eyes. “I read your Arthurius today too. Having a crush, are you?”

Eames beams. “He is absolutely lovely, Mal!” he gushes. “Right up your alley too. He wears suits and vests and designer shoes. And he is the most condescending bastard I have ever met.”

“Tsk, Eames, I’m a married woman. Stop trying to tempt me.”

They share a laugh. 

“Mal,” Eames starts, “can I keep the Arthurius? Dom said no, I’m appealing. I can even do a write up for you.”

Mal waves a hand regally. “Dom, I will take care of for you. Keep the Arthurius. I think it is adorable,” she tells him. “But try to generalize it a little, yes?” she adds as an afterthought. 

Eames grins. “You are the best, Mal.”

Mal winks. “I know.” 

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Stars point towards good finances. It’s time to go out on that fancy date that you have been denying your admirer. Alternatively, just go out with the first person that asks. 

\--

“Arthur, darling!” Eames calls just as Arthur steps into the café. 

Arthur glares at Eames and pointedly ignores him, concentrating on ordering his cappuccino instead.

“Arthur, will you go out with me please?” Eames asks, “Just for drinks, nothing more. And if you hate me, I will never bother you again.”

Arthur ignores him and scowls at a waitress who is giggling at the scene as she prepares Arthur’s usual order. 

“Arthur,” Eames whines. “The horoscope said—”

“The _Arthurius_ ,” Arthur grits out, “is _not_ a real horoscope. I don’t even want to know how you got my birth date!” 

Eames digs through his wallet and returns Arthur his driving license. “You are so easy, love.”

Arthur’s scowl deepens. “I should report you.”

“You lodged a complaint against my column and if I weren’t so irreplaceable in the paper, I might have gotten into a lot of trouble. Don’t apologize,” he adds quickly before Arthur can say anything, “You are already forgiven.”

“Ugh,” Arthur groans. “You are impossible.”

“Just very determined, love,” Eames calls at Arthur’s retreating back before he orders himself a tea and sits down to brainstorm over tomorrow’s horoscope.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Romance is strongly indicated all month where a fulfilling relationship begins. You may find that your personal growth will depend on said new relationship.

\--

“Really, Eames,” Ariadne tells him when they go out for lunch together, “if you continue being so creepy in your horoscope column, I wouldn’t be surprise when he goes running in the opposite direction when he sees you.”

Eames snorts. “He won’t; he’s _Arthur_.”

“You have no subtlety, Eames. _None_!” she exclaims. “It’s appalling.”

“I don’t think Arthur would appreciate subtlety. He pretends not to like that I’m being so overboard, but I think he secretly likes all the attention he’s been getting from me,” Eames says thoughtfully, more to himself than to Ariadne. "Give me a few more days. I will wear him down eventually."

“I want to meet this Arthur!” Ariadne exclaims. “How is it fair that I have never seen him before and he’s already taking all your attention away from me?”

Eames laughs. “I still keep tabs on you. I still know where to sick Fischer on you if I need to. You needn’t worry.”

“Yeah, you only think of me when you’re not too busy screwing Arthur mentally,” Ariadne huffs. “I’m your best friend, Eames!”

Eames rolls his eyes. “And my melodrama has rubbed off on you.”

“I know,” she says with a beam, “Soon we’d both make better actors than some of the people I have to watch.”

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Today may be a stressful day for you. Luckily for you, there will always be someone near you willing to listen to you rant. 

\--

“For fuck’s sake, Eames,” Dom groans, “This is the third complaint I’ve received about you this week.”

“They’re all by Arthur, though, therefore they don’t count,” Eames says breezily. “And today’s complaint was uncalled for. All I did was to ask him if he wanted to talk about his work issues since he looked like he hasn’t been sleeping in ages.”

“And then telling him that your penis is apparently the cure to insomnia,” Dom says pointedly. 

Eames shrugs. “’Tis the truth.”

Mal laughs. “Arthur hasn’t stopped buying the paper, though.”

Eames sighs, happy. “That means something, right, Mal?”

Mal nods encouragingly. 

Dom scowls. “You’re not supposed to encourage him.”

“You have to admit,” Mal says sweetly, “It is extremely adorable that Eames is being so resolute about getting into Arthur’s pants.”

“But he’s still ignoring me!” Eames mutters. 

“Take the hint, Eames. Maybe you're not the kind of person he goes for?” Dom suggests. 

Eames glares at him hotly. “Mal!” he whines. 

“ _Dom_ ,” Mal says accordingly, “no teasing Eames or I’m withholding sex.”

“I hate you, Eames,” Dom says with emotion, crossing his arms over his chest, “I hope you know that.”

Eames just slings an arm around Mal and laughs and laughs and laughs.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Loosen up, have some fun, do something incredibly unpredictable today! You may enjoy a good movie this evening.

\--

“Good morning, Arthur,” Eames greets cheerfully as Arthur hurries into the café.

Arthur doesn’t look at him. “Not today, Eames,” Arthur says and he sounds so tired, so _worn out_ that Eames does a double take.

“Arthur,” Eames says, considerably gentler. “Pet, are you alright?”

Arthur ignores Eames and orders his coffee. 

“Jesus, Arthur, how long has it been since you last slept?”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “I slept fine last night.”

“A ten minute nap doesn’t count as ‘sleeping fine’,” Eames snaps. “Are you trying to kill yourself with work? Is that what this is? Because I can assure you that there are much more painless ways to die. I can even recommend a method or two if you need instantaneous death.”

Arthur sighs tiredly and tips the barista generously when he hands over Arthur’s coffee. “Twenty minutes,” he says after a long sip of his coffee, “It was twenty minutes.”

Eames is not amused. 

“Let me take you out tonight—”

“Eames, I can’t deal with you today,” Arthur interjects. 

Eames continues as though Arthur hasn’t said anything. “I can rent a movie, we can order Chinese takeout. It’ll be fun. You look like you can do with some rest from work. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that, just two friends hanging out.”

Arthur stares at Eames for a long while and for a brief moment his heart leaps at the look on Arthur’s face, the one that says that he’s going to agree. Then Arthur frowns softly and says, “Sorry, Eames, not today.”

Eames smiles softly and sends him off with a, “Tomorrow then, love.”

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

You have the power of shock and awe today — but it's not scary! You can amaze even the most jaded of coworkers or café-mates and finally catch some well-deserved sleep. 

\--

“I read tomorrow’s submission and really, _‘café-mates’_?” Yusuf asks. “I don’t know how you think it’s going to help you woo the man, but I’ll take my hat off if it works.”

“You started dating Ariadne because the both of you reenacted a scene from _Romeo and Juliet_ in a breakfast diner,” he says with a snort. “Your point is invalid.”

“Not _any_ breakfast diner,” Yusuf scoffs. “ _The_ breakfast diner that makes pancakes that literally melt in your mouth. Fantastic, that diner is.”

Eames rolls his eyes. “Nevertheless, your point is invalid.”

Yusuf shrugs. “The real way into anyone’s heart is through their stomach,” he tells Eames sagely. “It’ll be a lot easier if you’d just listen to me and take him out for dinner at a fancy restaurant. Might I recommend that steakhouse downtown?”

Eames heaves a sigh. “He won’t even agree to go out with me. The only time I ever see him is when he comes into the café to get his morning coffee. It’s depressing, really.”

“Have you ever considered making him your own blend of coffee?” Yusuf asks. “I know someone who knows this person who makes really good custom blends. Out of this world, they are. You could have the beans by tonight and the coffee ready by tomorrow, if you are interested.”

Eames’ eyes narrow slightly in deep thought. 

“At this point where your dignity is already down the drain, I don’t think you have much to lose,” Yusuf adds thoughtfully.

Eames makes a decision then. 

“Yusuf?” he says, a look of determination in his eyes, “Hook me up with the coffee.”

\--

Eames wakes up at five in the morning, starts to ground the stupid coffee beans himself and tells himself this is why he prefers drinking tea instead. 

“ _’In an effort to make you seem more sincere, I told my friend that you could ground your own coffee beans. I’m sure you will have fun with it,’_ ” Eames mimics Yusuf’s accent perfectly, scowling as he does.

“Stupid Yusuf and his bloody ideas,” Eames grumbles. “Coffee powder would have been so much easier.”

He boils the damned water to exactly 94ºC — _“the perfect temperature for coffee”_ , according to Yusuf’s friend’s friend— makes the bleeding coffee and wrinkles his nose at the smell as he pours the coffee into a tumbler. Why Arthur would want to drink something so foul smelling is beyond Eames, really. 

Eames makes his way to the café, takes the seat outside of it and waits for 8:30 am to come.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Arthur doesn’t come in that day.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Darling, where are you?

\--

“How is _that_ a proper horoscope?” Dom asks, heaving a resigned sigh as he approves of the column. 

“What do _you_ know?” Eames returns haughtily. “You are the Editor in Chief. _I’m_ the God of Horoscopes.”

“There is no such thing,” Dom says, shaking his head. “No God of Horoscopes business in my office.”

“You are just afraid of the mystical powers I possess,” Eames says with a laugh as he backs out of Dom’s office. “But don’t worry, everyone starts out that way. You will learn to worship me and leave me offerings in my shrine.”

Dom rolls his eyes.

\--

“Arthur!” Eames cries in relief when Arthur walks into the café the next morning. “Thank God you’re here. What happened to you yesterday? Did you fall in a ditch? Did you fall sick? Did your mother come to visit? Did you lose your way to the coffee shop?”

Arthur quirks his lips up in a rare smile. “Good morning, Mr. Eames.”

“You’re smiling,” Eames says in horror and presses the back of his hand to Arthur’s forehead. “Not a fever,” he says, frowning, “You’re _smiling_ , darling, why are you smiling?”

Arthur shrugs and orders his coffee, the hint of a smile still evident on his face. 

Only Arthur's coffee order is all wrong.

“A single shot vanilla latte,” Eames echoes. “You don’t drink single shot vanilla lattes. Are you an imposter? Because frankly if you are, you’re doing a pretty shit job of it and you should quit because I want _Arthur_ back. Where is frowny-faced Arthur?”

Arthur snorts a laugh at that. “I sincerely hope you don’t actually call me that,” he says. “If you must know, I don’t need the extra caffeine today. I am very well rested.”

Eames’ eyes narrow sharply. “Well rested— Bloody hell, Arthur, did you get _laid_?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and ignores Eames as he pays for his coffee. “No, Eames, I did not get laid,” Arthur tells Eames matter-of-factly after he takes a long sip of his coffee. “I slept for twenty hours straight yesterday. I feel fantastic.”

Eames pauses for a bit, running Arthur’s words through his head. Then, he beams. “You followed the horoscope!”

Arthur flushes slightly and sips on his coffee to avoid having to answer Eames. 

“The horoscope was right!” Eames says proudly. “You caught up on your sleep and you shocked your café-mates by not coming into the café. I see what you did there, Arthur.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and walks out of the café and Eames follows suit, grinning all the while. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Arthur says. 

“We both know that’s a lie,” Eames says smugly. “You’re a fan of my column!” 

Arthur rolls his eyes again. “Now _that_ is a whole lot of bullshit.”

“As opposed to _‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’_?” Eames asks slyly. 

Arthur shoots him a scowl and crosses the road, leaving a laughing Eames behind. 

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Some facts you have to admit, some things you cannot hide from. Some people you must talk to, some dates you must accept.

\--

“How’s the quest for fair Arthur’s heart going, Eames?” Mal asks as she steals a piece of tomato off Eames’ plate during lunch. “I heard Project DIY Coffee didn’t take.”

“He didn’t show up at the café—”

“Eames, did you scare him away?” Mal asks, aghast. 

Eames rolls his eyes. “So little faith in me?”

“Correction,” Mal says gently, “so little faith in _Arthur_. When do I get to meet him?”

“When I’m sure that he likes me enough not to be scared away by you and the motley gang,” Eames tells her.

“So little faith in me?” Mal mimics. 

Eames grins. “Touché, Mal, touché.” 

\--

“Arthur,” Eames says with a deep sigh as he walks up to Arthur at the counter of the café. “Dearest Arthur, light of my life, will you go out on a date with me?”

Arthur arches an eyebrow expertly. “I’m going to call the cops.”

Eames frowns. “On what grounds?”

“I don’t know, shall we try harassment?” Arthur says archly. 

Eames clucks his tongue. “You are very touchy today. Do I have to ask you to get more sleep in my column again?”

“I am going to switch papers,” Arthur tells him in a sing song voice. “And then I’m going to change cafés.”

“Tosh,” Eames says with a laugh. “You’d never do that to me.”

The corner of Arthur’s lips tip up in a smirk. “Is that a challenge, Eames?”

Eames’ jaw drops in horror. “Don’t actually do it, darling!” he exclaims. “What will I do without you?”

Arthur laughs at that and he sounds exasperated and fond at the same time and Eames wants to kiss him. “What am I going to do about you, Eames?” 

Eames wiggles his eyebrows and Arthur snorts. 

“See you tomorrow, Eames.”

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

For once, dear Arthurius, would you please do something that people wouldn’t expect you to do?

\--

“Why does Eames look like he’s just been struck in the head with something really heavy?” Dom asks, squinting slightly in Eames’ direction. “And is he smiling?”

“Not so much as he is grinning goofily, no,” Yusuf replies.

“He is scaring me!” Dom exclaims.

“No worries,” Ariadne says comfortingly. “It’s nothing much. Apparently Arthur showed up at the café in a pair of jeans.”

“Obscenely tight jeans,” Mal says with a laugh. "Casual Friday, apparently."

Ariadne nods. “And since then Eames has alternating between feeling really turned on and grinning like an idiot because apparently he is getting to Arthur.”

“The horoscope thing is really working, then?” Yusuf asks disbelievingly. 

“Much more than your coffee idea worked,” Mal tells him.

“Does no one find him disturbing at all?” Cobb cries as Eames breaks into a fit of giggles.

Everyone else turns to look at Eames.

“You’ll get used to it,” Ariadne says sagely.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

There's a lot of aggravation in the air. Do not respond hurriedly to anything that comes in the mail. Don't be tempted to flame in reaction to incendiary emails. Most importantly, put off signing anything important today. It's a very peculiar day, Arthurius, please do be prepared.

\--

Arthur raises a disbelieving eyebrow as he comes into the café, waving the day’s newspapers at Eames. “Explain,” he orders as he sits down in front of Eames and signals for his usual order.

Eames’ eyebrows shoot up so high they disappear into his hairline. “Are you actively asking me for horoscope advice, Arthur?” he asks, gaping slightly. “Are you an imposter?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and taps the papers on the table impatiently. “I don’t actually have all day, Eames.”

Eames grins. “I knew you were a fan of my column!” he says happily. “I just knew it, Arthur. Would you like me to autograph it?”

Arthur scowls. “ _Eames_ ,” he grits out, “I have a merger to sign today on behalf of my company so now tell me if I should postpone it or sign it. Also, will anything bad happen to me if I sign that bloody merger?”

Eames laughs. “You won’t encounter freak lightning storms, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Arthur’s frown lightens. “How accurate is your column? Do you write it for the sake of writing it or is there actually truth in it?”

Eames gives Arthur a one-shouldered shrug. “Confucius once said that a little bit of everything is good for us.” 

“So it’s all just talk, then,” Arthur concludes.

“But ah, pet,” Eames starts with a crooked smile, “are you willing to chance it? Thus is the beauty of horoscopes; no one actually thinks they’re true but no one wants to risk it anyway.”

A thoughtful look passes through Arthur’s face. “But if it’s all in the mind, what’s there to be afraid of?”

“Beats me,” Eames confesses. “What are _you_ afraid of, then?”

There is a beat of silence in which Arthur sips at his coffee, thoughtful. Eames takes up his pen and starts scribbling on Arthur’s copy of the papers. 

“There you go,” Eames tells him as he finishes his sentence with a flourish.

_The important thing today, Arthurius, is to believe in yourself because when you do, there’s nothing that you cannot do._

Arthur grins. “Now that I know is all bullshit.”

Eames shrugs. “But it did make you smile.”

“I suppose it did.”

Arthur’s smile is a little bit softer than it normally is but Eames tries not to think about it. He mostly fails and ends up smiling whenever he sees the newspaper that day.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Do not deny yourself anything. If you crave for a pint of ice cream, go for it. If you feel like robbing the bank, who is to say no? The sky is the limit today!

\--

“What are your thoughts on today’s horoscope, oh mighty one?” Eames croons as he hands Arthur a cup of coffee. 

“You got me coffee,” Arthur says, frowning slightly. 

“It’s just how you like it,” Eames assures him with a smile, “Unless you just had twenty hours of sleep last night and don’t need the extra shots, of course.”

Arthur shakes his head slightly. “Thank you,” he says, still frowning. 

“Why the frown, darling?” Eames asks, his own smile slipping slightly.

“It’s nothing,” Arthur tells him and sips at his coffee absentmindedly.

Eames’ eyebrows shoot up. “That’s not your ‘it’s nothing’ face. That’s your ‘there are things going on in my life that I really want to tell everyone but I can’t because I don’t trust that people will just listen to me and not judge me’ face.”

Arthur shoots him a dirty look. Eames passes a croissant to him with a wry grin. 

“I did something really stupid,” Arthur confesses after a pregnant pause. 

Eames waits for Arthur to continue but he doesn’t elaborate, just looks at Eames. 

“And?” Eames prompts.

“And I don’t know what to do about it,” Arthur says with a sigh, rubbing his temples softly with his right hand. “I’m probably just making stuff up in my mind or imagining things that don’t actually exist,” he says mostly to himself, “I’m pretty sure things will blow over soon.”

Eames frowns slightly. “Why don’t you tell me about it? I might be able to offer an outsider’s point of view on things and maybe just help out a bit.”

Arthur eyes Eames down. “There’s this guy.”

_Oh._

“Oh,” Eames manages to say even as his heart plummets so fast he thinks his heartbeat is going to stop and that he is going to die. “What about this guy?” he asks trying to sound casual and covering up the fact that his voice sounds absolutely strangled and wretched with a cough. 

“I think I might be having a crush,” Arthur continues, the words flowing out of him simply, as though he doesn’t know that he is tearing Eames’ heart into a billion pieces. “It’s stupid, though, since I don’t even know him properly. He does all these really elaborate and stupid shit sometimes, but, I don’t know— He makes me want to do stupid things _with him_.” Arthur pauses and he fucking _dimples_ at Eames. “Eames, I think I might be in love—”

Eames lets out something that is in between a gurgle and a cry of absolute anguish. “I— I just remembered that I have this deadline that I must really keep up to. I need to get back to the office,” he says in a rush, not caring if he sounds so fucking fake, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Eames breaks into a run the first corner he hits.

\--

“Are you alright, Eames?” Ariadne asks gently, coming into his cubicle and taking the seat opposite him. “You look horrid.”

“I feel horrid,” Eames croaks. “I feel like the world is crumbling on me, like the seas are drowning me, like the sun is going to scorch me to death. I feel _like death_.”

“Did he reject you?” asks Mal as she, too, comes into his cubicle. “Arthur, I mean.”

Eames lets out a mirthless laugh. “He’s having a crush on another guy. He almost told me that he was in love with him,” he says bitterly. “And in another day or two, they’re both going to be grinning goofily at each other, buying each other coffees and scones and doing ridiculously romantic things with each other and oh God, Mal, Ariadne, I’m going to have to watch him look all happy and blissful everyday and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Are you sure about that?” Yusuf asks as he sets a cup of tea on Eames’ table. 

Ariadne nods. “Arthur doesn’t sound like such a bastard. I mean, he’s got to know that you’re in love with him, doesn’t he?”

“He told me himself,” Eames sighs. “It doesn’t get clearer than that.”

“Did he tell you who he was having a crush on?” Mal asks quietly. “As in, did he specify?”

Eames snorts. “Did he rub it in my face, you mean? Yeah, weren’t you listening?”

Mal shakes her head impatiently. “ _No, Eames, did he _tell you who__?”

Eames sighs and shakes his head. 

Ariadne catches on. “What was in today’s horoscope, Eames?”

“Nothing scandalous enough to make him think that I’m a freak, if that’s the line you’re going on,” Eames replies sullenly. 

Yusuf frowns. “Hang on, didn’t you ask him not to deny himself of anything today?”

Eames laughs. “So now it’s my fault he’s going to confess his love to his crush,” he says. “I should start a fucking matchmaking business. I would be such a hit.”

“Oh my God, Eames,” Ariadne growls, “How the fuck are you so dim?”

Eames stares at them.

“Eames,” Mal says sharply, “I think Arthur was trying to confess to _you_.”

Eames’ jaw drops.

“Did you hear him out properly?” Mal asks, the frown on her face apparent. “Or did you make some stupid excuse about having to go and running over to the nearest alley to vomit?”

“I didn’t _vomit_ ,” Eames defends feebly.

“But you ran out on Arthur,” Ariadne says angrily. “You’re an idiot, Eames. What if he was seriously going to give it a shot today and you just blew everything up?”

“Eames, mate,” Yusuf says with a clap on his shoulder, “you have to fix this before Arthur’s crush on you wanes.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s berating himself for being stupid enough for actually wanting to say something right now,” Ariadne tells him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he stops going into the café.”

Eames swallows. “I— He won’t—”

Mal smiles sadly. “Oh, he very well just might.”

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

The people around you are all idiots. Pay no mind to them.

\--

It is as they say. 

Arthur doesn’t come into the café and Eames can feel his heartbeat skip and his palms sweat and his thoughts getting all jumbled up because fuck, how is it that he has been such an idiot?

He orders himself Arthur’s coffee and it tastes like shit. He orders a tea instead and that tastes like shit too. He tries to eat a scone but it just makes him want to barf. 

The scone isn’t bad (they’re Arthur’s favourite, with the correct amount of raisins in them and all), to be fair, it’s just he can’t stop thinking about what Ariadne said and what Yusuf said and what Mal said and what if Arthur never comes backs? What if Eames never gets to see him, never gets to fix what he screwed up, never gets to tell Arthur —in actual words, in fucking sonnets— that he is heads over heels in love with him? What if this is the end to everything?

Eames calls in sick that day and spends the whole day in the café, half wishing, half hoping that Arthur would walk in.

Arthur doesn’t.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

The people you see on a daily basis should just be that, people you actually see every day. You can’t just up and go simply because one of them was being a massive idiot of major proportions. You should understand that he is a bit emotionally stunted and he didn’t know what he was thinking when he left like a coward that day and that he misunderstood your words and that he misses you so much and he would really like to buy you a coffee again.

\--

“I can’t let him print this!” Dom says softly. “The writing is horrible, most of it doesn’t make sense.”

Mal glares at Dom. “Eames is trying to make amends. I don’t care if it hurts you physically to approve of this column, you just _have_ to! Their story is so tragic.”

“But the writing—”

“Is sincere and truthfully, no one buys the papers just to read the horoscopes,” Mal argues. “A bad horoscope or two once in awhile isn’t going to kill anyone.”

“But the _writing_ —”

“How about I make it worth it?” Mal offers, winking seductively at Dom. 

“This paper is going to lose its reputation before the year is over,” he groans, but he signs the approval for Eames’ horoscope column anyway. 

\--

Eames comes into the office late, looking like he hasn’t slept in ages, and no one asks if Arthur has gone into the café because everyone knows the answer by then.

Dom goes to him first. “Eames,” he says and his voice is laced with a sternness he keeps for only when he absolutely needs it. This is one of such occasions. “Look, so you screw things up a bit. Just apologize and get on with things. It might not be such a big issue.”

Eames stares at him gloomily. Then he tosses Dom an envelope that was previously lying on his table. “Not such a big issue,” he repeats with a snort. “He’s probably sitting in a coffee shop, drinking subpar coffee and thinking what a prick I am right now,” Eames says. “I know everyone thinks that I am just trying to get into his pants, but I’m not. I genuinely _like_ Arthur and I think that he may be The One and now I’ve gone and bollocks it all up because I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Dom picks the envelope up from where it landed on the floor. “This is a letter from Robert Fischer & Associates,” Dom says, frowning. “Are you _suing_ me?”

Eames gives Dom a look. “It’s addressed to _me_.” 

"Ah," Dom says. "What is it?"

"It's an injunction," Eames says gloomily. "I am no longer allowed to go twenty feet within Arthur Moss. Arthur filed an _injunction_ against me! How the fuck is this not a big issue?"

Dom scans through the letter, squinting as he does. "Why do kids there days take things so seriously? Mal never did things like that to me!"

Eames gives him a look. "She's tried to divorce you twelve times now. You've been married for two years."

"Well, she never actually _did_ it!" Dom argues. 

Eames drops his head to the table and moans, "What do I do now?"

Dom sighs. "You do what you do best," he says gently.

"Fuck shit up?" Eames asks, bitter.

"Write more horoscopes."

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

I'm sorry.

\-- 

**Arthurius** — _20th January_

Don't deprive yourself of good coffee, Arthurius.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

Stars are shining for you today, dear Arthurius! A little bit of forgiveness goes a long way.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

I'm sorry. Please forgive me.

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

You can have the café back, Arthur. I won't be there, I promise. I know how a good latte can change your view of the whole day and I don't want to ruin your days any more. I've ruined enough things already. 

\--

"What do you mean he's stopped?" Ariadne hisses lowly. "He can't have stopped! He's in love with Arthur! Eames doesn't just _give up_! There's no story if he just _gives up_!"

Yusuf shrugs. "His draft for today's column does not include a spot for the Arthurius. Saw it with my own eyes."

"Do you think he's finally succumbed to heartbreak?" Ariadne asks, concerned. "Do you think this is where he starts working really hard to try to numb the pain and never goes out and never falls in love again and eventually dies an old man, still in love with Arthur?"

Yusuf gives her a look. "You watch too many movies."

"It's my _job_ ," Ariadne retorts. "Well?"

"No!" Yusuf cries. "Don't be insane. Eames will be fine."

They both turn to look at Eames, slumped in front of his computer, unshaven and clothes rumpled and Ariadne snorted.

"Well," Yusuf revises, "I never said he would be fine _instantly_ , did I?"

\--

"What," Dom says.

"You heard me," Eames replies serenely.

"What," Dom repeats.

Eames pushes the envelope on Dom's table closer to him. "This is my two weeks notice."

"What." Dom pushes the letter back. "I do not accept."

"I pay union fees," Eames tells him. "I can complain to the union and get you sacked."

Dom shakes his head. "You have no cause to quit."

"I explained myself in the notice," Eames says. "It should read that I am quitting my job because I want a new change of environment. And also that my boss is a bit of a jackass and hasn't given me a raise in three years."

"You write _horoscopes_ ," Dom says like it explains everything.

"Yeah, and now I don't want to any more."

Dom squints at him. "Is this a tactic to get me to give you a raise?" Dom asks. "Are you playing me?"

Eames snorts. "Not everything is about you. I just don't feel like writing horoscopes any more."

"But you love writing horoscopes!"

 _It pains me to now_ , Eames wants to say, but he doesn't. "Chin up, Dom, you hate it when I write crap horoscope. Now you won't have to suffer through all that any more."

"But where am I supposed to find a replacement for you in two weeks?"

At this, Eames grins. "I have taken the liberty of getting you someone new," he stands up from his seat and moves to walk out of Dom's office, "You'll love him."

\--

Two days after Eames' officially leaves the paper, Dom calls for a meeting.

"We need Eames back," he blurts out, after bolting the door to the conference room shut.

Mal snorts. "You were the one who stupidly let him go in the first place," she says. 

"He pays _union fees_ ," Dom hisses. "What was I supposed to do? Chain him to his desk and wait for him to sue me?"

"That would have been preferable, compared to having _Nash_ around," Ariadne groans. "He is _horrible_."

"The worst," Yusuf agrees. "And I thought Eames was bad."

Ariadne fixes Dom with a grim look. "I swear if he tells me that the stars have aligned with the sun and I should have sex with him to improve my _chi_ one more time, I am going to murder him and put the blame on you and buy out the jury so that they will convict you."

"Alright," Dom says with a grimace. "We need Eames back."

"He heartbroken," Mal says. "It's going to take him some time to recover. Unless..."

"Unless we can speed the process up?" Yusuf suggests.

"Nothing is going to speed the process up," Ariadne says with a frown. "Unless…"

They exchange looks and say simultaneously, "Arthur."

Outside, Nash bangs on the door, yelling, "Are you guys having a secret meeting? Because if you are, you forgot me!"

Ariadne head-desks. 

\--

"Arthur Moss?"

Arthur looks up. "Yes, that is me."

Dom squints at him. "We need to talk somewhere."

Arthur frowns. "Sorry, do I know you?"

Dom jabs his finger at Arthur's shoulder. "Don't make me knock you out," he hisses. "I know kungfu. And krav maga." 

Arthur stares at him. 

"Oh, for God's sake," Mal groans, glaring at Dom and coming to Arthur. "We're friends of Eames," she tells Arthur. "We have a proposition, if you can spare a moment to talk to us."

"No, Mal!" Dom says. "You're ruining my plan!"

Mal gives him a look. "You have no plan."

Arthur looks from Dom to Mal. "I should have known that all his friends were crazy."

Dom snorts at that. "You haven't seen Ariadne and Yusuf yet."

"Well?" Mal prompts. "Will you come with us? Please?"

"It seems like it would be in my interest not to," Arthur comments, but he is already getting up on his feet, latte long forgotten. 

They take him back to the darkened office. "Watch out for Nash hiding somewhere," Mal says under the breath when they walk in. 

"It's clear!" Yusuf shouts. "We're scanned the place while you were away!"

Arthur stares at all of them like they are all nuts when they sit him down and proceed to stare him down. "I must be missing something," he muses.

"You broke Eames' heart," Ariadne tells him. "He's quit. And now in his place, we have the most horrible colleague ever."

Arthur gives them a derisive snort. "I didn't break his heart."

"You filed an injunction against him!" Dom says. 

"I am beginning to realized that I should file one against all of you too," Arthur says with a scowl. "And I did that because he was starting to creep me out."

Yusuf snorts. "You _like_ him," he says, decisively. "You wouldn't have put up with him for so long otherwise."

Arthur shoots him a withering look. "I do _not_ like him."

"Look," Mal says, "Eames is an idiot. He is the hugest idiot to have ever set foot on the earth. And he is pretty much in love with you. And when you were trying to confess to him the other day," Arthur's cheeks pink, "he thought you were trying to tell him you were in love with someone else. And then he got all mopey because you wouldn't talk to him and filed an injunction against him and that was the first time I'd ever seen him looking so sad while writing the horoscope!"

Ariadne nods. "He's not going to say this to anyone, but he loves writing the horoscope and when he was writing the Arthurius, he was pretty much happy 24/7. And then when that thing with you happened, all I ever saw was Eames being miserable."

Arthur stares at them. "I felt like an idiot for days," he confesses. "I thought he was playing me all along."

"He's not," Yusuf says. "He wouldn't."

"I don't know," Dom says. "Eames constantly gives me the feeling that he's playing me."

Ariadne and Mal both elbow him in the stomach.

"For your sake and ours-" Mal starts.

"Ours, in particular," Yusuf adds. 

Mal rolls her eyes, but she is smiling now, like she knows Arthur will fix things. "For everyone's sake, go mend his broken heart."

"And tell him to come back to work on Monday," Dom adds as an afterthought. Ariadne and Yusuf nod furiously behind him.

\--

_Dear Mal,_

_I am in love with this man who does awfully ridiculous things for me, like write me horoscopes and buys me coffee and asks me out on dates everyday. But because of a misunderstanding, when I tried to confess to him, he thought I was trying to tell him about my crush for some other guy and ran off. He's quit writing me horoscopes, buying me coffee and asking me out on dates now, and I miss him terribly and want him back. What do I do?_

_Sincerely,  
Arthur_

**You go back to the coffee shop you two frequent and wait for him to read this in the paper. He is going to be late because he will probably have to call everyone in the office to make sure that it's not our joke first. But have patience, Arthur! Everything is going to work out. :)  
\- Mal**

\--

Eames drops the papers on Arthur's table. "I, uh," he says, "I read the papers." 

"I figured," Arthur says quietly and gestures at the chair opposite him. "Scone?"

Eames shakes his head. "I was an idiot."

"I've heard quite a bit of that recently," Arthur says with a small smile. "Mal was particularly vocal about that."

"I shouldn't have freaked out," Eames says, frowning, "I don't know what I was thinking. Okay, fine, that was a lie. I was projecting you smiling and laughing and making moony-eyes at some other man and I just couldn't stomach that thought. I don't want to see you in the arms of another man and try to be _happy_ for you. I'm not that great of a man." Eames swallows. "I am _madly_ in love with you, Arthur. Please tell me you believe me."

Arthur laughs nervously at that. "You don't even know me that well."

"I know enough," Eames says seriously. "I know what you look like when you smile, I know where your dimples are, I know what your laughter sounds like. That's more than enough."

Arthur's cheeks are flushed pink when Eames looks up at him. "You can't say things like that," Arthur says.

Eames frowns. "Why not?"

"You make me question my impulse control," Arthur tells him. 

"Oh?" Eames' brows furrow. "How so?"

Arthur leans forward. "I would really, really like to kiss you now."

Eames beams and takes Arthur's hand in his. "What are you waiting for, then?" he says and closes the gap between their lips.

\--

"So it turns out that forbidden sex is really good," Eames tells Dom, on Monday morning when he walks into Dom's office.

Dom frowns. "How would you know? I thought you and Arthur are officially together now. How's it still forbidden?"

Eames winks. "There's still that injunction. Every time I touch Arthur, I am actually breaking the law. You can't even begin to imagine how thrilling it feels."

Dom squints at Eames. "You have issues."

"Yet you want me to come back to write horoscopes," Eames ponders. "That's a bit odd. Maybe _you're_ the one with issues."

Dom looks up at Eames hopefully. "You'll come back?"

"I want a raise," Eames says. "And I want a corner office. And I want you to build me a shrine and acknowledge me as the God of Horoscopes."

"On a second thought," Dom says with a groan, "I think Nash isn't all _that_ bad."

"DOMINIC COBB," Ariadne's voice booms from outside, "DON'T YOU DARE. I WILL SET FIRE TO YOUR OFFICE."

"I remember the good old days where I used to be the boss here," Dom says mournfully. "And where office violence was strongly frowned upon." 

Eames grins. 

"It's good to be back."

\--

 **Arthurius** — _20th January_

The stars have aligned with the Sun today. It is advised for you, dear Arthurius, to have lots of kinky sex to ward off evil spirits.

\--

Eames loves his job, really.

"That's bullshit, Eames," Arthur says with a scowl. "I'm not about to have kinky sex with you because the stars and the Sun are aligned or something."

"Do not question the God of Horoscopes," Eames says automatically. 

Arthur rolls his eyes. 

"Are you really going to risk not following the horoscope, love?" Eames asks, sidling up to Arthur. "What if you end up having evil spirits hanging around you? Not that I wouldn't try to protect you from evil spirits, because of course I would, I love you. But that would just be unnecessary when we can just take preventive measures to ensure that you wouldn't be bothered by evil spirits, right?"

Arthur gives him a look. "Really."

Eames crosses his heart with his index finger. "Truly."

Arthur snorts. "You know I don't buy your shit, right?"

"Mm hmm," Eames hums. "But I know you will acquiesce to my request because you love me the most. Right?"

Arthur laughs. "Well, there is that schoolboy fantasy of yours we were talking about…" he allows, and Eames falls in love all over again.


End file.
